Gone With The Frank
by writingtiger
Summary: Finshed. Is Margaret going to choose Ashley or Rhett. Not a crossover, and maybe HM.
1. Bride Of Frank

_When reading this story, assume that Frank came to Korea as a single man, or this chapter will not make sense….Oh and the usual I don't own anyone no matter how mush I wish I did, etc, etc,etc……._

"It's been a pleasure General," Margaret said as she lingered near the General's Jeep. "I do hope we can arrange to meet in Tokyo," the General hinted

"Yes sir. Those military stances are very important," she suddenly agreed loudly, straightening up to military posture, and giving him a salute.

The General only had to look to his right for the answer in the Majors sudden change. That simpering Frank Burns. The General saluted and drove off.

"Wait, not without me," a man with dark hair yelled trying to run after him.

"Klinger what are you doing?" Margaret demanded.

"He was dressed in a low cut white dress. "I was going to act like the General's fiancé. He's already married so he'd hand me my psycho on a silver platter," Klinger shrugged at his foiled attempt.

"You're sick," Frank barked at the humble Corporal.

"Great will you sign my discharge?" he asked brightly.

"No."

"Worth a shot," he shrugged as he walked away.

"Major I came to borrow that military book," Frank hinted.

"Yes Major," Margaret purred.

Before they could walk over to Margaret's tent, another jeep pulled into the compound. A young woman with dark hair and thick glasses sat stiffly in the back seat. Radar ran over to help the woman out. "I'm supposed to report to Major Houlihan. I'm Louise Rockefeller," she said seriously.

"I'm Major Houlihan. Welcome to the 4077th," the Major introduced herself. She was relieved to find her nurse was exactly the type she had been hoping for. The woman was plain, and would not attract attention from that yahoo she was forever trying to keep away from her nurses. Even better she appeared serious. There would be no shenanigans from her Margaret was certain.

Over the next few weeks, Margaret could see that her initial assessment was correct. Corporal Rockefeller wasn't the most popular girl in camp by far, but the nursing staff did make attempts to get to know her, and she caused no trouble at all. However Major Burns seemed very interested in her, and was even taking her to the movies. She wondered if it had something to do with the rumors that Nurse Rockefeller came from quite a well to do family.

One quiet summer evening she was relaxing with a book on her cot when there was a knock at her tent door. "Come in," she called smiling. She hadn't expected the Major to drop by, but he was always more than welcome. "Good evening Margaret," Frank greeted her sitting by her on her cot. She was surprised that he wasn't all over her by now so she took the initiative by sitting in his lap. Awkwardly he tried to push her off his lap.

"Frank what's wrong? Is it something I said? Is it something I did? Have I done something to make me less attractive to you?" she asked.

"No Major. This is about something I did. As you know the legacy of Burns men is a proud and strong one. It goes back to the Revolutionary War. The burden of continuing this great line falls on me, and I need to find a wife."

"And you want me to marry you? Yes Frank, I will," she insisted, as she threw her arms around him.

"Margaret," he insisted as he held her back. "I'm marrying Louise."

"Corporal Rockefeller?"

"Yes. But here's the good news. After we get married, Louise is going to go home to Indiana, and I'll stay here so we can still be together."

"Frank, get out of my tent," she demanded.

She marched into Col. Sherman Potter's office. "Colonel, I need to have a pass to Tokyo," she stated.

"I take it you just found out about Burns and his new missus."

Margaret started to protest. He held up his hand in a peace sign. "Whoa, calm down Major I meant no offense. You'll have your pass. I'll get Radar to make the arrangements."

"Thank you Colonel."

Colonel Potter breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down in his chair. He was hoping the Major would choose Tokyo over sticking around and giving Cop. Rockefeller a hard time. Now if only they didn't get wounded. Things were slow in the war right now.

The longer it lasted to peacetime, in his opinion, the better.

"Whoa Major, where are you going?"

"To my tent," she insisted glaring at Hawkeye.

"How about my tent? Beej is on duty and Frank –"

"I don't care about Major Burns, nor do I care about you," she snapped as she stepped out of his way.

"Look Margaret," Hawkeye said becoming serious as he followed her into her tent. "I know about what happened with Frank, and in the event you do care, I'm here to listen," he said. "Two ears, no waiting. What are you doing?" he asked as she started to throw things in a bag.

"I'm going to Tokyo. Now will you get out of my tent?"

"Okay, but first things first," he took her in his arms. Then stepped back. "No I won't kiss you. Though that's what's wrong with you. You need to be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how."

"And I suppose you're the right person?"

"Good day Major."

She was furious. How dare he reject her? She was a major in the United States Army, and while she'd never be caught with a captain, she should be the one rejecting him. No one who was less than a major would be good enough for her. No sir. Then what could she expect from a draftee doctor? She continued to pack, angrily throwing clothes in her suitcase.

"He's not a major. He's not army. He's not married, and not marriage material" she said. As the last statement she paused. She had been waiting for Frank to ask her to marry her. Now her dream of being Mrs. Burns lay around her in shambles, but there were other fish in the sea. "As God as my witness, as God as my witness. This is not going to get me down. There are other men out there and within the next five years I'll be married to one of them. As god as my witness, I'll never be lonely again."

Her first stop after her arrival in Tokyo was a very elegant restaurant where she met the General for lunch. After lunch, he invited her to a party that evening in the bar of the hotel, an invitation she eagerly accepted.

What she wasn't aware of was how drunk the General could get. By eight o'clock he was passed out in a chair. She looked around for someone she knew. She had to help him back to his quarters. She couldn't leave him passed out like this. "Do you need help?" she heard someone ask. She turned and found a young man looking right at her. "Thank you. I need to get him back to his room. "Allow me," he said, as he stood the General on his feet. "Easy old timer," he said as he threw the General's arm around his shoulders. Margaret was impressed at how strong he was.

They got the General into his room, and left him passed out on the bed. "I'm Lt. Colonel Donald Penobscott," he introduced himself, as they headed back downstairs.

"Major Margaret Houlihan."

"Well, Major, would you be interested in going back to the party with me?"

"I'd love it," she said as she slipped her arm in his, and marveled at his muscular arms.

While Margaret was gone, Frank and Louise were married, and as planned Louise went home to Indiana to prepare the home they would share as man and wife. Frank settled back into his cot the evening Louise left with a sense of glee. He'd have Margaret with her looks, and Louise with her money, yes sir, he had the best of both worlds. Yes, Margaret had been angry with him when she left, but he was certain it wouldn't last for long. He knew her well enough that when she was angry, passion was soon to follow.

The next day Margaret returned to the 4077th. The entire ride back to camp she had been staring at the diamond that sparkled brightly on her left hand. Something was wrong. Part of her was giddy. In a short while she'd be married to a Lt. Colonel who was good old army just like her father. She would never be lonely again. There was another part of her mind that kept wandering back to what Captain Pierce would think of it all. It didn't even occur to her what Major Burns would do when he found out.

Nor did she have to wait very long to know. That night almost immediately after she returned to her tent after dinner there was a knock at her door. "There'll be no more chinny chin chin, nor any other part of me," she told him firmly. He argued, but she stood her ground. The future Mrs. Donald Penobscot was taking no crap from anybody that that included the "Lipless Wonder" Frank Burns.

She awoke one night a few months later with a pain in her side, but it wasn't due to Frank, or the rumor that he was going to be a father in the next few months. She threw on a robe, and staggered to the Swamp. She just hoped that this operation would go off without a hitch, or an inflow of new wounded.

"How's our patient?" Hawkeye asked as he checked the incision of their head nurse. "It's feeling much better. Thank you doctor," she replied. She was glad she had cleared it with Potter to have Hawkeye operate when she discovered her appendix needed to be taken out. She felt much better going under knowing she was in competent hands and not those of Franks' malpractice.

"Let's take you for a walk," he said as she assisted her up. "No," she groaned. "Margaret, you know as a nurse, it's important for you to get up and walk around. Come on." He was surprisingly strong and gentle as he helped her to her feet, and slipped her robe around her. The sun was blinding as they took slow steps out of the Post OP. They walked down the main street of Mash to a quiet spot that Hawkeye secretly referred to as Make Out Point. It was close enough to hear the wounded come in, but far enough to make time with nurses more pleasant.

"I need to sit down," she said as he was about to take her back. Hawkeye reluctantly led her to a bench that was set up on the spot. This was a dangerous place to bring an engaged woman, especially an engaged Margaret Houlihan. He should have taken her back five steps earlier. He leaned against a tree instead. It would be easier as long as he didn't sit so close. "So – how's your fiancé?" he asked. "He's fine, thank you." Normally she would have protested such a question but understood why he was doing it. Her eyes filled and she turned away struggling to get under control. Hawkeye forgot all about propriety.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Are you okay? Where does it hurt?"

She shook her head. "I guess all the medication I've been on is making me a little loopy," she insisted as she impatiently wiped her eyes.

"This is more than penicillin," he said, as he sat down next to her. "Frank Burns is going to be a father soon, if you can imagine that. It's awfully hard to love a man that has a wife and baby clinging to him."

"This isn't about Frank," she insisted. "It's just hard, I guess, being away from my fiancé," she said. She didn't dare tell him how she didn't trust Donald an inch, and had a sneaking suspicion she was right.

He hugged her, hiding his own misgivings about Margaret's future spouse. On a recent trip to Tokyo, he had overheard some of the geisha's talking about a man by the last name of Penobscot. He hoped it was a crazy coincidence.

"Are you ready to go back?" he asked, holding out his hands to her. She nodded, and he helped her up. Suddenly they were face to face. In Pierces eyes' Margaret saw a man she could trust, a man that would take care of her no matter what, a man who was loyal to a fault when committed. In Margaret's eyes, Hawkeye thought he saw his own wife. She deserved better than that thick necked thug, no matter how high his rank.

Neither of them could explain how it happened but he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back. He pulled away.

"Margaret you are about to be married," he stated.

"Then why did you kiss me?" she asked, obviously upset and confused at what had just happened.

"It's okay. It will just be a beautiful memory. One I'll carry with me the rest of my life, and if I were to be killed tomorrow it will be the first and last memory on my mind."


	2. Maybe I do

"You and Major Houlihan seemed awfully close coming back from your walk," BJ remarked as Hawkeye entered the Swamp. "It was pure professionalism. I take all my patients for walks."

"You take all your patients to "Make Out Point?" he asked incredulously, looking up from Peg's latest letter.

"It was out of habit! She's a nurse. It's where I take all the nurses," Hawkeye explained

"You know Hawk, Margaret is getting married."

"And why should I care?"

"Because I think," he said as he sat up from his cot and looked straight at him, "you're falling in love with her."

"I am not. Major Houlihan? She has the body of a goddess, and she's the most incredible nurse I've ever met, but she has a major flaw."

"She does?"

"A fiancée."

Hawkeye kicked back with a martini, wondering what to do.

_The next morning_

"Good morning, Captain.'

"Good morning Major," he greeted her as he made his rounds. Without speaking, he got her vital statistics then got up to leave.

"Doctor?" she inquired.

"Yes?"

"When can I get back to my nurses?"

"I'll tell Potter to release you this afternoon."

"You're my doctor!"

"Not anymore Major. You're off my patient roster."

Margaret sank back in her bed, absolutely devastated. Pierce only bothered with his patient rosters when he couldn't stand his patient, which was close to never.

She spent the morning thinking of what she would like to say to him. As soon as Potter released her, she marched over to the Swamp where she would have a talk with that Captain. She marched right into his tent where he was shaving. "Is someone hurt?" he asked without looking at her.

"You owe me an explanation of why you took me off your roster, and it had better be good."

"I don't owe you anything. My work is my business. I don't tell you how to play nurse. Don't tell me how to play doctor," he said as he continued to run the blade down his chin.

"That's not an explanation," she seethed.

He wiped the remaining shaving cream off with a towel, and turned to look at her. "Fine I'll level with you. You're attractive, and heaven help me, I'm attracted to you. The best way to do that is if I keep as far away from you as possible. Are you satisfied?"

"No. I don't want you to stay away from me."

"What?"

"You're the Chief Surgeon, and I'm the Head Nurse. There has to be some line of communication open between us."

"I was hoping to forget about that."

He sat on his bed, and she sat next to him. "So why don't you want me to stay away? You're an engaged Major, and I'm a womanizing captain."

"I don't know."

"You don't love him do you?" he asked as he stood up and poured a martini

"No, but I have to marry him," she said as he handed her a glass

"Margaret, you don't have to do anything."

"Maybe in your eyes I don't. I'm a Colonel's daughter, and the army is my life. I'm not sure I would be comfortable doing anything but marrying a Lt. Colonel, and raising army brats. It's what my father expects."

"How do you know you'd be so uncomfortable with civilian life if you've never tried it?"

"The army is my life."

"The life your father wants for you. Have you ever stopped to think what you want Major?"

She stood up ready to walk out. "We're not having this conversation."

"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you don't even want to be a nurse."

"Hold it right there Captain," she demanded pointing a finger at him. "I'm proud of what I do, and I'm good at it."

"Agreed," he said as he put his hands up in surrender and stretched out in his lounge chair. "Let's stop right here right now. We're getting angry at each other."

"It's what we do best," she admitted.

"Are you still going to marry him even though you don't love him?"

"Why are you so concerned about that?"

"I don't want to see you throw your heart away on someone who doesn't deserve it."

Hawkeye never broached the question again. If Margaret was going to marry Donald, she would. However as he heard less and less of her Colonel, she was hoping she would give it up. The months passed. One night when Colonel Potter had ordered a movie and it broke, they had a sing along.

"Some nurses in the army. They never tie the knot. But this one's gonna try it with Donald Penobscott," Margaret sang enthusiastically.

Hawkeye cheered and continued to sing with the rest, but he had been hoping that she had changed her mind.

Margaret looked in the mirror at herself in her wedding dress. She was her dream bride. She would be married to the perfect husband, and everything would be fine she tried to assure herself. There was a dreadfully cold feeling in her heart, but Major Houlihan could not afford to go with her heart. Her head was pointing her down the aisle.

There was a knock on her door. "Come in," she called, expecting to see Colonel Potter. Instead it was Captain Pierce who stood there. There was a long second as they looked at each other.

"Margaret, you look amazing," Hawkeye said.

"You really think so? The dress is a little –"

"No the dress is fine," he assured her.

"But that's not why you're here," she pointed out.

"No, um, Margaret, there's something you should know about your Lt. Colonel," he said. Margaret could see the smirk forming at the corners of his mouth.

"What is it?" she asked warily.

"Well," Hawkeye tried to straighten up, but whatever he was about to tell her he considered terribly funny. "Last night, we got a little drunk, and Donald broke both his legs."

"He broke both of his legs?"

"Both of them," he confirmed. "He's in a body cast that goes up to his chest."

"You're kidding," she accused him. Hawkeye ran out before Margaret could hit him. As he was getting away from her tent, he heard a huge pop. He turned just in time to see her fist withdraw from the new hole in her tent. 'She took it well,' he thought, as he hurried back to the mess tent and slid into his seat next to BJ.

She returned from her honeymoon to find that Frank had gone off the deep end. She wanted to be a fly on the wall when he was explaining to his wife what had happened. There was no way Louise would believe that they were "just platonic". How did a husband explain such insanity to his wife? That was one comfort she had. Donald would never cheat on her. His replacement, Dr. Winchester, was certainly going to be an improvement on the camp. She would have to make certain her nurses were rotated among him equally so they'd all have the chance to observe such a master at his craft.

"Dear Darlene," her letter read. Margaret fumed as she read it, realizing that everything she secretly suspected about her husband had been right. 'That scumbag,' she raged. This letter was much more romantic that the one he intended for her. "She's a sturdy woman," he had written. If she had him in front of her she would show him what sturdy meant. The problem was she'd have to patch him back up afterwards. Going with Hawkeye to demonstrate the new surgical procedure was looking better and better.

There were bombs everywhere, but it didn't matter to either of them. Lost, they took shelter at an abandoned hut. They awoke in the middle of the night, screaming at them to stop. Then he started kissing her, and she started to kiss him back. She was so hurt and scared, she needed to feel something else, and Pierce was offering it. Before they could get any further than kissing she pulled away. "We can't let this go any further," she said.

"Margaret, I wouldn't dream of it. I want my first time with you to be special. There should be candlelight and flowers. Or at least a semi dilapidated cot. You deserve more than this dirty floor."

The shelling stopped. They both sat back against a wall exhausted from the mix of terror and passion. "Margaret, that was simply heavenly," he joked.

"You rat," she said as she playfully jabbed him.

He put his arm around her, surprised that she cuddled in closer. Before they knew it they were kissing again. Hawkeye was going to let Margaret take the lead this time.

She was furious at herself for letting her guard down, and letting him get at her heart. They hadn't done anything to cause regrets, but it had gotten close. She should have expected Pierce to do nothing less then run away, in the daylight, as soon as it was convenient. What a rat! All men were rats. Pierce, Burns, her husband. Her anger again turned toward Donald and the perfect revenge. Once again safe in the camp and in her tent she started a letter. "Dear Hank"…

The final straw came when she was preparing to meet Donald for a weekend in Tokyo. She was humming to herself as she brushed her high heels. They would work out their problems, even if she had to get a transfer. First it was a telegram; he was reassigned for the weekend. She envied him getting to go home to the states, but was anxious to hear about it when they were together again. Then came the phone call that he had transferred permanently - at his request. Margaret had had enough, had suffered enough. It was painful admitting she had made a mistake, but at the same time she felt better than she had in months.

A few nights later she went to Officers Club, and got drunker than she could ever remember. She looked over and saw Pierce having a rowdy drink with Charles and BJ. This was the perfect time to make her move. She was lonely and he looked good. She stumbled back to her tent, doing everything in her power to make herself more alluring. She managed to put on makeup with a surprisingly steady hand, and splashed herself with perfume she had bought on the Ginza. Then she took off her wedding ring. There was no need for that anymore. She stumbled back to the Officer's Club, and sat right down in Pierces lap.


	3. Maybe I don't

"Hello Margaret," he said as she planted herself in his lap.

"Hello handsome," she slurred.

BJ started to laugh as he realized she was drunk.

"How much have you had Margaret?" Charles asked with a smirk.

"I'm not as think as you drunk I am," she snapped, and gazed into Hawkeye's eyes with the most meaningful look she could give in her drunken state.

"If you'll excuse us," Hawkeye said as he helped the Major to her feet.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he escorted her out.

"Back to your tent."

"Why ? Let's dance a little before we dance some more," she suggested as she stumbled along. "Don't you have a cheek with my cheek's name on it?"

"Not right now, but that's a good line. Can I use it sometime?"

They walked into her tent and she threw her arms around him.

"I want you to use me. I want to be your nurse tonight."

"Major, you're drunk."

"And I want you anyway."

"You'll hate yourself in the morning," he said with a gentle smile as he helped her get her shoes off. She interpreted the move as seductive, and grabbed him, kissing him passionately.

"That was nothing like when we kissed before, was it?" she asked as she struggled to pull him back on the bed with her. He grabbed her hands, and gently laid her down.

"You're going to hate yourself in the morning. I want you, but not like this. I want you to be at least sober enough to know what you're doing," he said, and left.

Hawkeye walked back to the Swamp, and just sat on his cot. He could go back to the Officer's Club, but he couldn't have alcohol just now. It burned him in a way it had never burned him before – in the form of a blonde bombshell. Who knew she felt that way? Who knew if the truth was coming out while she was drunk, or if it had all been drunken truths. He had wanted her for months, and now that he finally had the opportunity -. "It wasn't an opportunity, he quickly corrected himself. She was drunk and he respected her too much to take advantage of her in that way.

Still he wondered what it would be like – to possess her, make her his own, feeling her skin against his. He stood up and began to pace. He grabbed his stationary from the shelf near his cot. "Dear Dad."

The Swamp door burst open breaking into his thoughts.

"Whoa ho ho. I didn't expect to see you here," B.J greeted him. "Did you hide her in your foot locker?" he asked, stumbling over his feet to knock on it

"Go to sleep," Hawkeye told him.

"For a man that's been seduced you don't seem – happy – about it. Have you lost "it"?" Charles asked as he fell on the floor laughing hysterically.

"That's enough. You go to sleep, and you go walk through a land mine," he yelled at his drunken tent mates.

"Hawk, you don't need to get so testy," BJ said trying to make himself stop laughing.

"I'm not testy. I'm not even miffed yet."

'Burned alive is what I am' he thought miserably.

Margaret woke up the next morning with the worst hangover she'd ever had. She sat up, groaning as her head pounded. The bars of a Captain lay on her floor. She put her hand over her mouth. It couldn't have been B.J's or Hawkeye's? Could it? She struggled to remember last night. She looked over at the tube of mascara in horror. She only used the cosmetics when she wanted to look especially alluring, but couldn't remember who it was that she had been trying to seduce? She looked down. Her green T-shirt, and uniform pants were right where they should be. At least she hadn't done anything she'd regret, but she'd have to find out who those captains bars belonged to.

She got ready as quickly as her headache would let her, and went into the Mess Tent for breakfast, shading her eyes from the sun. She scanned the room for Hawkeye. He was alone. She skipped the line and went straight for the coffee urn.

"May I join you, Captain?" she asked as she approached with her mug. "Go right ahead," he said, scooting over on the bench.

"So what did you do last night?" she asked him.

She thought he was going to choke on his sausage, as he started laughing hysterically.

'What's so funny?"

"Major you were incredibly drunk. You went after me, not that I minded," he teased.

"What happened?" she wanted to know.

"I took you back to your tent," he said, becoming sober, "I helped you take off your shoes, and I put you to bed."

"I don't believe it."

"Scout's honor," he said throwing up his hands.

"You were never a scout."

"I didn't do anything Major, although I wanted to. Would you like to meet me in supply? We could do an inventory of each other" he suggested lighting up.

"I believe this is yours," she said as she placed his Captains bars on the table and walked away.

"Margaret," she heard someone call. She turned around.

"Oh. Good morning, Major."

"So Margaret, I just procured a bottle of Merlot Fracois, made from the finest vineyard in Nice, and I was wondering if you would care to join me."

"Major, I have a hangover."

"Not surprised the way you were drinking last night," he snorted.

"And you invite me to have a drink with you?" she asked, her voice becoming dangerously thin.

"Why Major, I didn't mean it quite that way –"

"I would hope you didn't. However what did happen at the Officer's Club last night?"

"Well, you and Pierce had quite the interlude. I thought he would spend the night with you, but he seemed annoyed, when BJ and myself returned to the Swamp last night."

"He did?"

"His instructions to me were to walk through a land mine."

This was news to Margaret. If he had been upset, that had to mean something.


	4. Are You the One?

"Margaret, I would like to spend this evening with you. If a bottle of wine is not in your department. Perhaps you'd care for a game of chess?"

"I'd love it," she smiled.

Winchester would never admit it, but he had been terribly jealous, wishing it was his own lap that Margaret had stumbled into last night. It made him realize that the Winchester fortunes and destines had not been merely produced by chance, but action. And action was what he was going to have to take if he wished to bring Margaret home to Boston after this was over.

Pierce was in Post-Op that night, and Hunicutt was working on reports in the lab. It was an ideal night to have Margaret over. He had put on a record of Bach, the ideal music to such an evening, as Margaret knocked on the tent. Next to it, he had a carefully chosen stack, each symphony meant to elicit passion, and romance. "Hello Margaret."

"Good evening Charles."

"Have you ever played Chess before?" he asked as they sat at the table he had set up.

"Of course. My sister and I played all the time when we were younger. It would give us something to do until we could make friends."

"What a shame you never made it to Boston. It's such a lovely town," he said, and started to weave a tapestry of an old, dignified city where events that shaped the world took place. Cobblestone streets, and charming pubs abound, a city of history and excitement. Margaret never knew he could be so poetic as he eloquently described the pleasure of sitting in Symphony Hall, and walking down the street where Paul Revere had once made his daring midnight ride. They spoke well into the night, of poetry, of culture, of things they had in common that Margaret had never seen under his aloof exterior.

Margaret began to throw herself into her work, training the nurses in triage, and making her nursing staff the pride of the Asian Theater, drawing even more attention from Major Winchester.

He would often come to her tent bringing fine foods and wine, and they spent many evenings together laughing and chatting. However there was no talk of a relationship. She'd learned from Frank Burns that having a relationship with anyone in camp made you a walking target for ridicule, and jokes. But someday they'd all be going home, and every now and then, she would think about what it'd be like to work in Boston.

Hawkeye had also started paying more attention to her as of late. He wasn't as direct as Charles in dropping by, but he always asked her to dance in the Officers Club. They danced like they had been partners all their life. She knew his moves and streams of communication flew between the two of them when they were on the floor. She started to pay more attention to her appearance, and subtly adjusted the duty roster so that she would work with him more. Every now and then there were glances, across a patient in OR, or across the mess tent that made them wonder what was going to happen, and Margaret would think about what life would be like in a small town.

The peace talks were imminent. Everyday there were valid news reports that would have them going home by sometime mid-summer. It was a warm day in May when Hawkeye knocked on her door. "Major I need to talk with you?"

"Which patient?"

"No, none of the patients. You."

"Me?"

He kissed her. This time without confusion, but a clear desire for the woman he wanted as his own. It was the kiss of a man who did not want to back down.

"No one has ever kissed you like that. Not Frank, or Donald or even Winchester."

"Let me go," she struggled weakly. Part of her wanted to drop it and just give in, and part of her couldn't surrender.

"I want you to marry me."

"What?"

"I can't keep waiting to catch you in between Majors. We work well together. The passion is there. What do you say? Once we get home."

"Pierce, you're kidding."

"No, I'm not."

"Pierce, I'm not sure if I'm ready to be married again."

"Margaret, I love you. I promise I would never do anything to hurt you. Besides we can wait until we get home – to the States. That way we don't have an army in between us."

"Hawkeye, I – I don't know. I don't know if I like being married."

"Margaret, you went after Frank because he's a Major and Donald because he's a Lt. Colonel. Why don't you try for love?"

"I don't love you."

He grabbed her.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me."

She looked him in the eye, but couldn't do it. He kissed her passionately, leaving no room for her to say no.

"Incoming wounded. Get em' while they're bleeding," the announcement came over the PA. "Think about what I said," Hawkeye told her breathlessly before running out of her tent.

Automatically, Margaret threw herself into the task of triage. If there was one thing she prided herself on it was the fact that her personal life, no matter how tumultuous, never interfered with her work. One thing she was careful of though, was to avoid either assisting Hawkeye or Charles. She needed time to think. She would have that later when the wounded were recovering in Post Op, and they were all out of surgery. She couldn't wait. It was only a ten hour shift, but it had never seemed so long before.

The first rays of dawn were stretching across the sky by the time she finally left the OR. The surgeons had gotten to leave earlier, but her job involved the aftermath, insuring the wounded were in the right places and all were resting comfortably. She slept the entire day, and when she awoke there was just enough time to shower before dinner.

After dinner, she realized that the next week's duty rooster hadn't been posted yet. That wasn't like her she chided herself as she went to her tent and get that done. As she was figuring out which nurses should be on duty with which doctors, there was a knock at her door. "Come," she said distractedly as she adjusted the schedule of the newest nurse. She always tried to put the more experienced ones alongside of the greener nurses, and she had scheduled her for Wednesday, with another nurse that only had a week more experience.

"Ahem," she heard someone clear their throat. Looking up, she saw Charles holding a bottle of wine. "Charles, I didn't expect you tonight," she said in surprise, her duty rooster completely forgotten. "I thought you have Post Op tonight."

"I was, I mean, I am, but I'm not due for another hour. Margaret, there is something I must discuss with you."

"What is it?" she asked with a queasy feeling hidden behind her bright smile. 'Please don't let him ask about Pierce', she thought. Tonight was going to be light, breezy conversation, simple, nothing he could mistake later on. "Here is a simply lovely bottle of Cognac. I had Klinger procure it just for me for what I wish to discuss with you," he said as he filled the two glasses he had brought with him.

"Thank you Major. What should we toast to?"

"How about to us," he said

"To us," she replied as her glass clinked against his, and they took a sip.

"Margaret, it can't have escaped your attention that I posses some – quite strong- feelings for you. Normally I would read you a poem or something that would more eloquently express my thoughts; however lack of culture being what is in this camp, I guess I must speak from my heart. Margaret, you are a breathtaking woman. A talented and lovely woman such as you is what I am seeking in a wife. Margaret, I want you to come back to Boston with me when this war is over, and become my wife."

"What?"

"I want you to be my wife."

"Charles, I'm flattered, but –" she started to say, but then stopped. She couldn't tell him no. Her mind was a mess of doubt. Now she not only had Winchester's proposal to think about, but Pierces too. "I can't give you a yes or no right now," she said.

"I need some time to think."

"I appreciate your honesty my angel," he said. "I will make you happy Margaret," he said as he kissed her hand, and walked out the door.


	5. War

"Margaret sat on her cot, taking deep breaths. This couldn't be happening. She ran out into the compound to see B.J.  
"B.J," she greeted him, her voice a little two bright, "why don't we have a cup of coffee?" she suggested steering him intothe mess tent.  
"Margaret, what's going on? You're making me reschedule my sock washing party," he laughed, as they sat down with their mugs.  
"Pierce asked me to marry him."  
"I know. You haven't answered him yet."  
"Charles also asked me to marry him."  
"That I didn't know."  
"Hope you kids don't mind an old war horse joining y," Colonel Potter said as he stood at the end of table.  
"Not at all Colonel. I need all the help I can get," Margaret groaned.  
"What's the problem Major?"  
"Charles asked me to marry him."  
"He told me. Have you given him an answer yet?"  
Pierce also asked me to marry him."  
"I didn't know that," Colonel Potter said, soberly.  
"There seems to be a lot of that going around," B.J quipped.  
"Well, Major, which one do you love more?" the Colonel asked.  
"I don't know."  
"And I take it neither Pierce nor Winchester know."  
"Not about the other," the major confirmed.  
"And it's going to stay that way for now, comprende?" Colonel Potter stated firmly to B.J. " Major, if you would like to spend a few days R&R to clear your head, that can be arranged as soon as you finish your duty roster."  
"Thank you sir. That would be much appreciated."

"Congratulations on your engagement Major."  
"Not now Klinger," Margaret pleaded as they drove out of camp the next morning.  
"Which one did you pick?"  
"How did you know about that?"  
"Winchester was pestering me to get him a bottle of his vino, and Pierce has been calling just about every jewelry store in Korea."

"I want to get married someday," he said as they drove along the dusty roads.  
"Marriage is a pain in the rear," Margaret quipped.  
"I think as long as you're married to the right person, it'd be swell," Klinger said, as his jeep stopped for a young Korean woman who was taking her cow across the road. Her eyes locked with his.  
"Soon-Li," he heard someone call from over in the field.  
Coming," she replied and smiled at him before she and her cow ventured into the field on the other side of the road. 'Too bad she doesn't live in Toledo,' Klinger thought before he and the Major continued their drive to the airport.

Margaret had a wonderful time shopping on the Ginza, and taking in all the luxuries she was deprived of back at camp. Her three days ended all too soon. She had done a lot of thinking the past few days. The only thing she was sure of is that she still didn't know. Maybe she should just tell them both no.

Her suitcase was on her lap. She was having her driver park to the side of her tent so it'd be as inconspicuous as possible that she'd returned. No such luck. No sooner had she rolled into camp, then Pierce came running to her from one side, as the same time Charles spotted her from the other side. "Margaret darling, I'm so glad to see you. There's something we have to discuss," Hawkeye said as he hugged her hello.  
"Pierce, get away from her," Charles barked. "Mahgaret, my dear, there's something I'd like to discuss with you."  
"Whatever it is it can wait Chaarles," Hawkeye mimicked his accent.  
"Pierce, nothing you can say can be more important then the engagement Margaret and I must discuss," Charles laughed.  
"Charles, you should know I've asked Margaret to be my wife. Back off," Hawkeye snipped his voice becoming dangerously thin.  
"Pierce, I've asked Margaret to be my wife," Charles stated firmly.  
"You son of a -" Hawkeye growled and lunged toward him.  
B.J held him back, having seen what was brewing from the OR.  
"I take it from the way these two stallions are stamping their hooves that you told them?" he asked Margaret.  
"They told each other," she shrugged.  
"All three of you in my office NOW!" he barked. "You too, BJ."

They all marched into his office, BJ making Hawkeye sit on the table where they usually sat during staff meetings, while on the other side Charles remained standing. Margaret sat in the middle in a chair.  
"This whole thing is completely unneccasary. I asked first so I get first pick right?"  
"Pierce this is a marrage, we're talking about, not a high school prom."  
"I quite agree Pierce. The Major will choose the best man," he said in reference to himself.  
"Shut up!" Hawkeye growled.  
"You shut up," Charles yelled back.  
"You both shut up," Margaret screeched.  
"Silencio," Colonel Potter commanded.  
"Sir, if you're going to transfer anybody could you get rid of Charles?" B.J asked.  
"Horse hockey! Pierce is going to act like he's housetrained for once, and you Major, are going to keep your mouth shut. Comprende?" he barked, fixing a stern gaze on both doctors.  
"Colonel, I assure you I will only act with the utmost civility," Charles assured him.  
"Good. To make sure you can keep that promise Major, Klinger is going to be your new best friend. And Pierce, you're not going anywhere without Captain Hunicutt at your side. In the meantime, I've put in a call to Major Freedman. He was going to come down here anyway for a poker game tonight, but your thermostats are running a little too high for my liking. He'll help defuse it. In the meantime - dismissed!" he barked.  
"At least my friend drinks," Pierce shot at Winchester.  
At that moment Radar came buzzing into the office. "Major Freedman's here. His stuff's already in the surgeons tent."  
"Make sure he's in with the surgeons Radar. There's a good lad."  
"Thank heavens. Now I won't have to spend the entire afternoon with that Desert Fruitcake," Charles remarked.  
"Hello Colonel, I hear you have a doozy here," Sidney remarked strolling into the office.  
"Sidney, I have nearly the whole camp going bonkers over which Doctor Major Houlihan will marry."  
"Which Doctor?"  
"Pierce and or Winchester."  
"Oh boy."  
"You said it."

Margaret bolted out of his office and changed. directly reporting to Post OP, and ignoring the looks from the other nurses, as she had Kelleye give her a run down on all their current patients. She spent the next hour in the OR ensuring everything had been left in apple pie order during her abscence. Her main focus was staying out of anyplace where she might be found.  
"Congratulations on your engagement Major," Father Mulcahy congratulated her as he saw her walking out of the hospital.  
"Thank you Father, but I'd rather not discuss it right now."  
"I heard you were engaged to Pierce, but then I heard you were engaged to Winchester too," he commented.  
"At this point, it's neither," she replied shortly, and continued on her way.

It was infuriating how this whole mess had gotten around. She worked too hard in this man's army to become gossip fodder. She had to decide. That was the only thing to be done, but who?


	6. The Answer

The next night was movie night. Somehow Radar had rounded up "Gone With The Wind" which everyone except Major Winchester was eager to see. "I have no interest in a movie about a war that's been over with for a hundred years," he scoffed. Margaret was careful to sit in the back where she wouldn't be noticed. Sidney had arranged it so that Margaret would be approached by neither of her would be suitors unless it was on her terms so she didn't have to worry about Hawkeye asking her questions she wasn't ready to handle.

Becuase the movie was so long, it would be shown in two parts. As she prepared for bed, she started to think in terms of the movie. Ashley was the one Scarlett longed for becuase she thought he was perfect for her, just like Margaret thought Charles was perfect for her. Scarlett loved Ashley, and would do anything for him. Margaret realized that was very much like her love for anyone that was in the camp. She would do anyting for the nurses and doctors she worked with. Charles wasn't special in that respect. Neither was Hawkeye.

She lay awake as she remembered how they had each proposed. Hawkeye burning with all his passion and fire, and Charles looking for an accessory in the Boston society circles. Each man had meant what he said, and loved her in their own way. Why was it so hard for a woman to know her own heart, and what way she wanted to be loved in? All she knew is that she felt awful when Hawkeye would look at her across the mess tent. He wasn't moping, he didn't act sad or droopy, but his eyes held his pain, and it hurt her to know that she was causing it.

When Part 2 was shown, at the end something clicked. When Scarlett realized she loved Rhett, Margaret sat up with a start. Hawkeye was her Rhett. If she'd quite being so dazzled by what Charles had swung in front of her she would realize that she loved Hawkeye. She almost laughed out loud. She loved him. The minute the movie was over, she stood up to look for him. He was nowhere to be found. She saw him as she glanced through the doors in the operating room. There was a eighteen year old corporal on the table that Margaret knew had had some awful bleeding. This was not the ideal time to discuss. Instead she paced the inside of her tent, putting on her makeup, this time fully aware she was applying mascara. She checking through her window every five minutes to see if he was done yet. Another hour had passed by the time she finally went over to the hospital to investigate. He was gone, all the patients, including the Corporal who was now improving, were settled down for the night, the operating room sterile as usual, and Pre Op was empty.

She ran over to the Swamp, and saw only BJ sitting there darning his socks. Hawkeye couldn't be at the Officer's Club or Rosies. She needed him right now, and sober.  
"Hawkeye's over at his spot," B.J said as soon as Margaret stepped into the tent.  
"How did you know?" she asked.  
"Surgeon's intuition," he joked with a smile.

She ran to the end of the trail that she and Hawkeye had taken that day. There he sat, illuminated by the moonlight, dressed in his usual army garb. "Can I join you?" she asked.  
"Free country," he shrugged.  
"Hawkeye, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Winchester right away," she started out.  
"Margaret, looking at it from a reasonable prescpective, I don't see where you had the chance. But I don't want to be reasonable. You say you're sorry, but I know what you're about to do. You're about to rip my heart out by telling me you've choosen that Boston snob with the higher rank. Well excuse me for being a humble doctor from a small town, and excuse me for happening to love you. More than he ever will," he yelled.  
"Hawkeye, will you shut up?" she demanded. "I choose you," she said, her tone softening.  
"Me? Why?" he asked stopping in his tracks.  
"Becuase I love you too," she said smiling.  
There was no time to think before he scooped her up in his arms kissing her, settling on the ground, still holding her as though he would never let go.

Of course she left the last part out as she told their children the story of how she and their father had finally gotten together. "What happened to the other guy?" their seven year old son, Henry, asked. Margaret affectionately ruffled his black hair, so much like his fathers. Hawkeye told Margaret his son would be a surgeon someday. "With curiousity like that, how can he be anything else?" Hawkeye asked. "He went home to Boston, found a wife, and everyone lived happily ever after," Margaret concluded.


End file.
